


Saved by happenstance.

by StixandManny



Series: Clouded emotions [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Character Death, themz had it coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StixandManny/pseuds/StixandManny
Summary: Eskel quickly silenced him with an upheld hand however as the sound of nearby shuffling in the under growth caught his ear. Lambert swiftly fell silent listening to the sound as well, both peering into the dimly lit woods to their left. The sound grew closer and soon enough a pair of black clad soldiers came into view through the trees a few yards away. Though the majority of the rustling seemed to come from the young lad being dragged along behind them by a rope.
Series: Clouded emotions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154546
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Saved by happenstance.

“I already told you, I don’t need help with this contract.” Lambert huffed at his brother as they passed through the woods. “So, you don’t have to cling to me like crap on a boot.” He added, sending the other a cocky smirk.

He was headed north, for the winter, autumn was wrapping to an end and he was making his way back to the keep. Hearing word in the last town, of a town two days over that was looking for someone to take care of a monster problem. He figured why not, end the season with a pocket full of coin, maybe even update his winter coat, his current one had thinned in several places after years of wear. Unfortunately, as it turned out Eskel too was in town and had also caught on to the word of work nearby.

So, being the mature quick witted witcher that he was he had called dibs on the hunt. Eskel had called him a child but let him have the hunt anyway. They had shared a few rounds of ale at the inn and set off at first light the next day. They’d made camp together last night and had broken camp not half an hour past as they continued through the woods.

“Ha! Who says I intend to help?” The older witcher chuffed, “I just want to see how well our littlest witcher holds up against the big bad monster. As I recall you were thrown on your arse by a fiend last we shared a hunt.”

“Fuck off.” He scoffed back, barking a laugh as he added, “At least I don’t have a scar on my arse from a succubus horn.” Eskel gasped out with a look of shock that morphed to outrage as spat back.

“That prick. I swore that white haired bastard to secrecy.” Though that just had the younger witcher laughing twice as hard. Eskel quickly silenced him with an upheld hand however as the sound of nearby shuffling in the under growth caught his ear. Lambert swiftly fell silent listening to the sound as well, both peering into the dimly lit woods to their left. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon still so what light did filter through the trees wasn’t very bright.

The sound grew closer and soon enough a pair of black clad soldiers came into view through the trees a few yards away. Though the majority of the rustling seemed to come from the young lad being dragged along behind them by a rope. His bootless feet scuffing up dirt and leaves as he scrambled to regain his footing, hands fighting the rope around his neck. A noose Eskel noticed with a sour taste in his mouth the soldiers were dragging the lad by a noose.

There was a lot of reasons the black army might be dragging someone along against their will. The young man might be a prisoner or a deserter, some fool thief caught trying to steal from them. Perhaps they’d overheard the kid speaking ill of them or he could even be some poor farm lad who was taken as cruel lesson after his parents refused to grant the enemy soldiers supplies from their farm.

He’d seen armies beat or hang men as lessons for all manner of slights sometime as simple warnings for the poor villages caught in the crosswires not to step out of place.

“Fucking southern soldiers.” Lambert spat under his breath from his side. “Seem to be crawling all over lately.”

True. The war seemed to be slowly creeping further north by the day, and small scatterings of the black clad soldiers littered through the north was becoming more and more a regular occurrence. Ever since Cintra fell to the Nilfgaard’s forces.

His brow twitched at the faint hum his medallion gave, Lambert must have noticed it too as he hummed, “Mage maybe.” Turning to continue on his way, “Not our business whatever it is.”

Eskel wasn’t so fast to move on, focusing closer at the trio through the trees. The lad didn’t look to be cuffed or bound with dimeritium to suppress their power so surely were he a mage he would fight back. A dark smear on a patch of leaves the lad had been dragged over caught his attention just as the faint scent of blood hit. None of them had any physically visible injuries, his eyes darted back to the men, obviously one of them was. It didn’t take much to figure out which it was most likely to be.

“No.” Lambert hissed from his spot as he realised his brother wasn’t following, “Eskel you know it’s an exceedingly dumb idea if I’m the voice of reason.”

“Something seems off.” Really off, if the young brunette was injured, why hide his injuries and from whom. “I’ll just go in for a closer look, I won’t do anything stupid.” He stated as he started towards the trio. Lambert snorting out, “Just so you know, once you’ve got the black army on your tail, I’m gone the second you’re not looking. You can deal with your own mess.”

Eskel just continued forward, shifting to make sure his footfalls would be heard, most tended to bristle at being snuck up on. He wasn’t too concerned anyway; despite his brother’s dismissal he knew he had his back. The other witcher was silently circling to flank the soldiers should things turn nasty.

The soldier’s paused as they heard his approach, hands at the ready on the hilt of their swords. The young man they dragged behind him stilled, panting and giving a cough as he took the opportunity to try and regain his breath. It didn’t look like the soldiers were set to kill their prisoner just yet though given his state and their lack of concern for his trouble breathing it seemed they didn’t care if he did die either.

“Who goes there?” The man holding the rope ordered and Eskel stepped towards them, hands up as he made his approach.

“Easy, boys. I’m just passing through.” He dropped his hands back to his sides as he paused several paces in front of the men.

“State your business Witcher. Be on your way.” The man stated, his friend keeping a close eye on the witcher.

“Monsters.” He replied condescendingly in his friendlies tone, because monsters were always a witcher’s business. So, it was a pretty dumb question to ask. “I heard there was work in the area, wouldn’t happen to know exactly where I’m to look. Heard any talk of monstrous beasts or seen such yourself?”

“The fuck should we know.” The second soldier shot back, “Try the next town. Now fuck off.”

The captive brunette’s eyes rose at the mention of witcher, cornflower blue eyes clouded by pain and exhaustion scanning over the witcher before them. Eyes growing wide and already rabbiting heart rate picking up double pace as his eyes landed on Eskel’s medallion. Right, the lad’s being dragged through the woods like a dog with a rope around his neck, and the witcher’s the one he should fear. Eskel thought with a mental eye roll, some days humans made no sense at all.

He was weighing options, getting involved in human affairs usually proved more trouble than worth. There didn’t seem to be any other soldiers nearby lurking in the bushes so if he were to intervene there was no way Nilfgaard would know who killed the two. But it also meant he’d have the blood of two men on his hands, and he still didn’t know what the lad’s crime or if he’d even committed one. Oddly enough the brunette hadn’t even pleaded his aid, though that could be because he was distracted with getting air back into his lungs. There was also the possibility they’d taken away his ability to speak.

The two soldiers seemed to draw their attention to the medallion around his neck at the same time their prisoner. The man with the rope asking, “That a wolf around your neck?” At the same moment, the brunette warned, “Run, they’re after Ge-” His eyes fell to the brunette -as the soldier kicked his boot back into the lad’s stomach, leaving him coughing and gaging into the dirt- caught off guard by the warning to run.

It was a mistake.

The familiar sound of a crossbow being loaded, and his eyes shot back to the soldiers to find the one not holding the rope now had the crossbow set on him. Eskel gave a small growl as he raised his hands in surrender.

The man with the rope asking, “Wouldn’t happen to know the butcher of Blaviken? Or what was it our little pet calls him,” The soldier peered down at the brunette curled in the dirt with a cruel smirk, “The mighty White wolf was it?”

“We might get a hanging after all,” The man grinned. “Think this one’s going to be far more useful than this welp was.”

“Ain’t never interrogated a witcher before, last one got away before we got the chance. This should be fun.” The second soldier laughed though the sound was swiftly cut short as Lambert’s blade sliced his head clean off. The first startled at the sight of his friend’s head rolling across the ground, moving to draw his sword.

“What the fu-” The witcher’s blade was through his chest before he’d even pull the blade from its scabbard.

Lambert pulled his sword free and the soldier dropped in a lifeless heap on the ground, As Lambert huffed at his brother, “You fucking owe me one.”

Eskel ignored his brother’s remark, no doubt he’d be calling in that favour at the next tavern they came across. Instead, he turned his attention the young man before them, who had uncurled enough he sat mostly upright as he struggled to pull the rope from around his neck. Leaning down he helped pull the noose over the lad’s head, tossing it into the undergrowth.

“Be careful.” The brunette cautioned, voice thin, warn and raspy, and for half a moment Eskel felt somewhat insulted thinking the young man meant he wasn’t being gentle. Which he very much was trying to damn be. But he soon realised the warning was aimed for him not at him, as the lad said, “There… there are more soldiers. They have a camp…” he seemed to look around as though lost before finishing unhelpfully, “S-somewhere.”

“Real helpful.” Lambert deadpanned and Eskel smacked him in the chest with the back of his hand for the comment. “I’ll go make sure the horses haven’t run off.” The younger witcher huffed stalking off before he could get himself in more trouble.

“I’d wager east, considering the direction they were headed.” Eskel offered nodding at the two dead soldiers, “Lucky for you the two of us are headed north for town, so we can get you help there.”

Tears welled in the brunette’s eyes as he breathed, “Th-thank you.”

“Can you stand.” He urged, stepping over the body in front of him. The lad lifted himself on shaky legs with a hissed-out grunt, though as soon as he tried to take a step his right leg gave out and he collapsed with a strained yelp. Eskel managed to catch him before he was back on the ground, hoisting an arm over his shoulder and wrapping one around the lad’s back, to keep him steady.

The other whimpered and hissed through grit teeth at the shift in position and arm at his back; and the witcher didn’t need to feel the sticky warm wet slowly soaking into his cuff to know something was wrong. He could smell it, the brunette was a lot worse off than he looked. He smelt sick. Of blood and infection.

He muttered out an apology as he set to start back to the horses, seemed he needn’t have however as the lad slumped unconscious in his hold. “Looks like I’ll be dragging you to the horses then.” He mumbled, hoisting the other up a little so he’d be easier to move before starting off towards Lambert and the horses.

Eskel carefully set the brunette down near the horses and moved to collect something from his saddle bag. “What are you looking for?” Lambert asked, crouching down to look at the young man lain on the dirt. “Oh, wow. He does not smell right.”

“I think he has some sort of spell or illusion type glamour cast over him.” Eskel explained, as he dug through the bag, “Would certainly explain the reaction our medallions had. I Helped a witch out a few months back and she gave me something that I think should dispel it. Ah-ha!” His fingers wrapped around the familiar diamond shaped amulet and he returned over to his brother and their new unconscious burden.

Lambert eyed the strange diamond shaped amulet the other held, etched with symbols and runes with a crystal lens in its centre, shaped like an eye. The older witcher slowly guided the amulet over the brunette, from head to toe and back again. Staines started forming on the lad’s thin oversized cotton shirt and trousers, and his skin took on an ashen pallor. Mottled with bruises, cuts and abrasions.

“Fuck.” Lambert cursed as the illusion was broken.

The young man was in bad shape. Really bad shape.

Cheeks flushed red with fever, hair dull and brittle, he looked as though he’d not had a decent feed in months. The dark ring of bruising and raw skin around his neck was expected from his earlier treatment. The brunette’s left wrist was swollen, bruising was visible on both wrists likely from binds and several of his fingers were twisted and bent in a way that suggested they had been broken at some point and healed poorly. He glimpsed slightly scabbing wounds peeking through the open low collar of his shirt, the edges still pink either still healing or early sings of infection. Lashes, and from the stains on Eskel’s cuff from where he’d dragged the kid here his back was likely in a similar if not worse state.

Though it was the dark stain of varying hues halfway up the thigh of the brunette’s pants that really caught his eye. The stench coming from that area was not pleasant and Lambert drew his dagger to cut the material, curious as to what lay beneath. Eskel looked as though he was going to say something as he spotted the other’s dagger during his own examination over the visible injuries on the young man. Though whatever it was he was going to say died as both their eyes landed on the wound that was revealed. The whole thing was swollen, skin tight and glossy, the area about a hands width in diameter around the actual wound was stained a dark purpled port colour. The wound itself wasn’t that big, an arrow wound, that was weeping pus and discharge. The mess of scarring and scabbing around it suggested it was a fairly old wound, weeks possibly even a month or two that had gone through several cycles of partial healing and infection.

“He needs a healer.” Eskel stated solemnly, carefully shifting the lad, to sit up with an arm around his shoulders. “Grab me something to wrap him in for warmth.”

“Needs a bloody miracle worker.” Lambert muttered as he went to fetch his winter cloak. Ignoring the look Eskel shot his way, yeah, yeah, not helping.

Once Eskel had the brunette wrapped in the cloak, he had Lambert help juggle him onto his horse, arms bracing him in place as he held the reigns. Lambert mounted his own mare and they set off for town, this time at a far less leisurely pace.

**Author's Note:**

> There saved Jaskier.  
> Might add future work to this collection, but no promises.


End file.
